


Moments in Love: His Face

by Entwife_Incognito



Series: "Moments in Love" [8]
Category: The Mentalist
Genre: Admiration, F/M, Fluffy-ish, Love, News, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 17:25:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8809549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwife_Incognito/pseuds/Entwife_Incognito
Summary: Inside a quiet moment between Teresa and Patrick. She has something to tell him and she's not sure how to say it. First person, Lisbon's POV. A mild M for its intimacy rather than its action. Very short, a ficlet really, pretty fluffy. Disclaimer: I own nothing about The Mentalist.Posted at FFnet and on Tumblr October 7,2014. Now here, with refining edits.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Stemming from a conversation on Twitter and ripening with the mood of the fandom on Tumblr. :D Hope you enjoy it. Crossposting on Tumblr, too.

"You are a beautiful man, Patrick. To think that I almost missed you …"  


We are nearly nose to nose, letting the moments before we begin to make love, even kiss, weave their spell. He knows that by 'beauty,' I don't mean his looks.  


A scud of cloud passes over his brow and shadows the light in his eyes. "Teresa … I don't think I could have lived … Only the thought of seeing you again, being with you someday …"  


My cool palm settles on his forehead, and I feel the tiny muscles let go as he relaxes. My hand passes lightly down the rest of his face, easing the memory of his grief. Our grief. "No more pain."  


I don't know how to tell him what I need to say …  


His eyes are deep and open to me, present. Not expectant. Just taking me in. It's like slipping naked into the warm sea. It touches me everywhere, knows me, loves me, holds me in its gentle power. I feel its undulating current, warming the seawater spaces between us. We blink lazily and float together.  


His lips are full and soft. The moments are so slow, I see the pink grow deeper, the flesh plump more, and I know he thinks about kissing me. I wonder what he sees in my face.  


Does he know what I want to tell him?  


The thought tightens my nipples, seems to draw and swell my breasts. They tingle, and the sound they make in my head is like the buzz of a beehive, far away. These breasts, these … are going to make milk. How do I tell him?  


"Patrick … I'm … we're going to have a child."  


The sea loses its moon and goes still as space.  


His lashes dip and his lips part at the same time. I feel a shiver travel the length of his body with his inward breath, soughing in the silence.  


When he opens his eyes, they carry the ecstatic shock of his orgasms. Total and overwhelming. Overcome anew by the heights of pleasure that pull him into rapture.  


His gaze is skyward and unfocused. He's letting the news fill him, and he likes it. I swear I can feel the outlines of my rejoicing womb as the corners of his mouth lift in a soft smile.  


"Oh!" It's a breath, a sigh. A realization.  


His eyes close again when I put my fingers in the curls over his temple, combing them back as part of the caress.  


"Oh!" It's the reality carried by my touch as I pull him close.  


Then he says my name, holding me in a rubbing embrace that tries to pull our bodies into one shell. No matter how many times we try to do that, we never quite make it. A stinting nod to our humanity.  


"I love you, Teresa. You're making me a father again."  


_"We_ are. And you're making me a mother."  


"Do you want to?"  


"Yes! Of course! I want all your babies!" I briefly think of his lost baby, the one that isn't mine. This moment isn't about that, and I'm glad to see it fade from his face, too. "Do you want to?"  


"Yes! And more, if you like!"  


If we were standing, he'd be whirling me around the room in his arms, my toes never touching the ground.  


His eyes are slightly red and moist. I'm sure mine are, too. We kiss, and while it is as sweet as our sweetest kisses, it carries the newest element of our lives. This kiss is plump and rich with promise, with something created that wasn't there before. Our child. A tiny whisper inside of me. A quickening whisper from its father, sounding deep in its own place now. Joining the two of us in a way uniquely its own.  


Patrick's golden lashes peek from eyes squinted shut by his wide open smile. He covers my face with delight and with smacking kisses that sing happiness as he springs to life between our legs. I want him more this minute, love him more, than I dream is possible. My body thrills for him, for this joining.  


I hope our breath of a baby can feel the love between Patrick and me. The love that creates its new home.


End file.
